Forget Me Not
by chasehermes
Summary: Gods and demigods always have a problem with remembering, but that doesn't mean they don't try.
1. Like Mother, Like Son

**and I'll carry you home tonight**

**A/N: **It's Christmas tomorrow, and I wish you all a happy vacation. :DD Anyway, it's my first time writing something other than in Reyna's perspective... I just hope you'd like it.

**theme: ** Percy and Poseidon: Father-Son bonding, family fic

It's not exactly "bonding", but I hope this comes close to it. :))

Merry Christmas! :))

**dedicated **to_ I am Athena daughter of Zeus_

* * *

**Like Mother, Like Son**

* * *

_Life is a shipwreck, but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats._

**-VOLTAIRE**_  
_

* * *

Percy got his talent of his sneaking out from him. Poseidon knew that much. Aside from that, he figured everything else came from Sally.

It was easy for Poseidon to realize that Percy was really a mommy's boy.

He knew Percy wouldn't risk the lives of thousands of Americans just so he could get the satisfaction of seeing his son. Percy wouldn't sneak out in the middle of the night from his wife just so he could see the child he had with another woman. Heck, Percy wouldn't even _think _of cheating on someone.

If Poseidon didn't know any better, he would have thought that Percy was not his son in the first place, and the boy he was searching for was just a boy-version of Sally instead.

But Percy would dare face the wrath of Zeus – and that sort of assured Poseidon that _this _boy was really carried his blood as he appeared as mist in front of Percy's sleeping figure.

At the age of twenty-five, Poseidon was proud to say that Percy was one – no, the best child he ever had.

This hero in front of him faced the odds – gods, three prophecies! – and even dared to defy the Fates to save those he cared about. This man literally saved everyone from – from everything! This person who went through Tartarus was his son.

The hero who faced Hades to save his mom and the entire civilization has Poseidon's blood. The boy who accomplished every feat every demigod would want to achieve had Poseidon's (part-time) guidance (but hey, he's a god, so there are limitations). The child who kept his morals in place and his friends and family above everything else had Poseidon's love, and –

And the sea god couldn't ask for anything more.

He glanced at the sleeping figure in front of him, and to the blonde his son had his arms around.

The daughter of Athena better not break Percy's heart because his son would do everything – that much was proven – just to save this Annabeth Chase.

Thinking of that made Poseidon feel funny because he knew only a fool would doubt this girl's concern for his son. The love those two shared was just too strong for anyone to not notice. It was evident, and even a blind man could see it.

He figured he didn't have to worry about Percy's love life.

Poseidon groaned when he realized that if he thought about all of the aspect of Percy's life, he would end up killing all of America and well, you know, give himself a hemorrhage.

How Sally managed was something he would not understand – at least not for a million years.

She spent two and a half decades bringing up a demigod _alone_. She had to deal with monsters and problems that went along with it. She faced the cruelest of all creatures – ehem, Smelly Gabe (yes, even Poseidon called him that) – and all the complications.

Suddenly, his respect for women shot up. He's going to have to give Sally and – what was his name again? Paul Blowfish - Paul Blofis, he meant, a gift later on. Perhaps a ticket to Bahamas would do.

Percy mumbled Annabeth's name in his sleep, and Poseidon smiled.

All of a sudden, he remembered the night he snuck in Percy's bedroom when he was just a baby. It was thrilling, and the memory of little Percy stuck on to him for a long time

Unfortunately, the argument he got into with Amphritite wasn't exactly… pleasant. But he saw his son, he reasoned, and that was worth it.

"You and your children," Amphritite sniffed with disgust.

He resisted the urge to use his trident then.

"You have no right to touch _him,_" he growled at his wife. He was sure that caused the mini-tsunami that hit Hawaii.

"…beth," Percy mumbled in his sleep as he held the blonde closer.

Aphrodite would have the time of her life when she sees this, Poseidon mused. It was another trait Percy got from his mother – sleep talking.

"I'm proud of you," Poseidon murmured as he saw the swollen belly of the daughter of Athena was _obvious _in the moonlight.

_And I'm sure I'd be proud of my grandchildren too_, he added as an afterthought.

He could almost imagine them – bright and wise like those of Athena and well… loyal and brave like him.

Poseidon thought it wouldn't hurt to compliment himself once in a while. He almost laughed when he realized the amount of trouble Percy would have to face if he ended up having a daughter.

The boys would end up chasing her, and Poseidon was sure Aphrodite would have some fun.

Poseidon had tons of children before, and he would be lying if he said he didn't give a damn about them. He wept when they fell in battle. He was angered when they were hurt. He gave them love – at least by the standards of a god. They were treated… equally. Young Theseus and all the others…

But there was something about Perseus Jackson that made Poseidon exceed the limitation.

He had tried not to meddle – that much he knew, but it was as if just watching his son risk his life brought too much pain that Poseidon can't help but drop hints every now and then.

Perhaps the _kind heart _of Percy was what triggered this, he mused.

That confirmed to Poseidon that even if Percy was not as gifted as he was, he would still be his favorite.

Yes, it must be because of his attitude that made Poseidon fonder of Percy than all the others.

He resisted the urge to run his fingers through his son's hair.

But he was shocked when he realized that even though they weren't obvious – even if they weren't that evident to the human eye – Percy had his traits that would appear here and there.

That was enough for the sea god to ask for.

Sometimes he'd wonder what it would be like if Percy was already… gone. Would his life be as painful as it did before? Would eternity be just as long when he no longer had a son to be proud of every single day? Those scared him, but there was this one question that scared the Hades out of him much more than anything else.

Would he forget about Percy?

The thought was… terrifying, but it was inevitable. Gods last for – _for forever_. Mortals don't, and while these humans fade, the gods tend to forget.

"…. thanks….. dad…" Percy mumbled again, and Poseidon was rooted in his spot, "….love you…"

Something clicked, and Poseidon smiled.

He might not remember Perseus Jackson for the rest of his existence, but he'd hold on to the memory of _his_ son for as long as it would last.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**darling don't you ever grow up**: How was it? Your reviews would be appreciated. :)) Thanks for reading! :DD

_I am Athena daughter of Zeus: _I hope you enjoyed this one!

Merry Christmas! :DD


	2. Once Upon A Time

**with a tight grip**

**A/N: **Haiiii, guys! I'm back again.

I've decided to make this multi-chaptered. Maximum number of chapters would probably fifteen, would center countless of pairings… How's that?

First try on Luke/Thalia. This was buried somewhere in countless of notes in my little black notebook. I never thought I'd start writing it. Anyway, here's a simple 100-word drabble – exploded to something with 2, 300+ words. Your reviews would be greatly loved. A late Christmas present won't hurt you know. :))

Many thanks to those who reviewed and favorite and placed this story or me on their alert. Anyway, have fun reading. Drop by a review/criticism… all are welcome. Inspired by _Yesterday's Feelings _and _The Road Less Traveled_.

Everything belongs to Rick Riordan.

**dedicated **to _HecateA_

* * *

**Once Upon A Time**

* * *

_To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget._

**-ARUNDHATI ROY**

* * *

.

It's raining, and he tries to figure out how long he has been running away. Two weeks, three days, and at least ten hours and fifteen minutes – that much he knew. He's tired, and his muscles have grown weary.

He figures that sleeping near the bus station is excusable this time. He hasn't eaten in days, and the amount of water he brought along with him is certainly not enough. His body aches, and the only thing that stops him from collapsing is the thought of having something to shelter him from the harsh winds.

He settles on the hard ground, and grips the windbreaker tighter around his body. Cold weather isn't his friend, and his empty stomach doesn't help. The dim light that the bulb gives off provides little comfort.

He closes his eyes, and waits for sleep to come.

Only to hear something drop loosely beside him.

His eyes flash, and to his shock finds "someone" instead. The countless of creatures that haunt him is replaced by a dark-haired angel.

Lightning flashes across the sky.

"I figured you need some help," 'the girl' shrugs, offering him a slice of bread.

It doesn't look like it has been freshly baked, and the rugged sides it has show that it's probably been shoved inside the leather bag she's been carrying.

He raises an eyebrow, and sort of figures that 'the girl' is – in a way or another – right. He's actually relieved that someone's actually selfless enough to see that he's having a hard time. But pride is something he treasures as much as he takes care of his dignity, and that sort of makes accepting the food more difficult than it should be.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere else?" he asks instead, and he hopes it doesn't annoyed.

'The girl' rolls her eyes, snorts – _snorts! – _and looks at him straight in the eyes. "Would you rather starve to death instead?"

He feels his muscles relax just slightly. _So this girl is a fighter…?_

He shakes his head in amusement, notices her clothes (they practically scream 'funk' and recklessness, you see), assesses the situation he's in, and takes her offer.

It's about time he swallows his pride now. He'll just pay his debt next time, he swears to himself.

"Thanks," he mutters and munches it – swallows every bit is the proper term, Luke muses.

"You look like you haven't eaten in days," 'the girl' remarks, and he notices that her eyes are sharp – electric blue, in fact.

For the first time, he lets out a laugh, and says a _friendly _retort. "And you look like you haven't slept yet," he replies just as playfully, taking notice of the dark marks hanging loosely under her eyes. They contrast just fine.

'The girl's mouth quirks in amusement, takes no offense in it – he's starting to like her even more – and (instead of snapping back like he expects) looks at him thoughtfully. "You're like me?" she asks quietly, her eyes – _they're so blue _– are guarded.

All of a sudden, her quirks, her aura is gone, and she looks like a four year old in need of a hug.

Absentmindedly, he realizes that she's wearing a leather jacket that's probably hiding countless of scars.

"Depends on what you mean by 'like me'," he answers. She opens her mouth, and from the looks of it, she's ready to snap; he cuts her off. "But if you mean by that is getting chased by one-eyes monsters and freaky ladies wearing wings then," he pauses, "welcome to the club."

'The girl' blinks her eyes. He's kind of worried he said the wrong words.

She looks thoughtful for a moment, and her eyes narrow slightly. "You describe them very weirdly," a grin breaks off her face; her shoulders loosen, "and I like it." She pauses, and again, she looks like she did before – like she's been trying to figure something out.

"I'm Thalia, by the way," she says slowly as if she's trying to make sure that it's safe to say that one thing that sets her apart.

Almost as if she's trying to see if he's _worthy_, he scoffs.

He grins crookedly – _Thalia, Thalia, Thalia _– and he repeats her name like a hymn, a rhythm he can't get off his head.

"I'm Luke," he says, and somehow, the rain seems to stop.

(But the beat of her name in his mind never seems to end.)

He stands up and walks like before, but this time, he's not alone.

.

"We're not good for her," Thalia – _Thalia, Thalia, Thalia, _he just can't get enough – mutters under her breath.

"It's not like running around alone would be good for Annabeth," he points out.

The seven-year old blonde they recently met is snoring loudly at her side. Her intelligent eyes are closed.

"We're not going to be a good influence on her," Thalia argues, "She'll be better off with people who'd actually be a family." She lowers her voice, and it comes as a harsh whisper.

He rolls his eyes and replies lightly, "Do you think people with jobs and with money would understand her better than we do?"

Thalia opens her mouth and is about to argue, but he continues. "For all we know, they'd think she's some freak. It's not like the treatment she'd get would be any better."

As if on cue, Annabeth rolls on her side, and clutches Thalia's hand.

"See?" he says smugly, "She likes you, you know."

He gets a glare instead.

"You are _so _gonna pay for this," Thalia seethes, and Annabeth's grip tightens. Thalia looks like she's ready to strangle him, but the sloppy grin that made its way to her face kind of breaks it.

(He figures her smile sort of justifies her name – mysterious, and this time, bright.)

.

.

"We'll be a happy family," Thalia promises Annabeth.

The latter one grins, and it reminds him that the daughter of Athena is a seven year old. "We will," she agrees easily.

They make their way to the woods, and he sort of walks behind, you know, to act as the father figure his dad never was.

The other two start to run, and he's only snapped back to reality when Annabeth's voice – it's low for a kid, he thinks – breaks through his mind. "We're gonna leave you behind, Luke!"

He rolls his eyes. _Really, kids…, _he thinks, but he runs to catch up easily anyway. Speed has never been a problem to him.

A thrilling laughter gives him courage, and he smiles.

(If he hears Thalia Grace's laughter over and over again, it's going to overshadow her name and the memory of her smile, he muses.)

He sprints, and he can see the faint light from the future ahead.

.

The gods are cruel, he thinks bitterly as they run even harder to reach this so-called summer camp Grover tells them about.

"We won't last any longer," Thalia pants. He can see that her legs are about to give in to the pain, and the cuts on her arms don't help either.

"We're almost there," he grits his teeth in frustration as he sees the Furies getting nearer. He sends a silent plea to his father.

_ Just this once._

"Take a turn," Grover heaves as he drags Annabeth who nearly stumbles on the branch.

It's hard to maneuver when it's raining. He grinds his teeth when they nearly reach a dead end.

Who the hell would think of putting a camp in the middle of wilderness?

The gods aren't just heartless; they are stupid too.

"We have to keep moving!" Thalia hollers as they sprint even harder. Oh gods… the creatures are getting nearer.

"The hill is over there!" Grover points through clenched teeth as he sloppily jumps over a rock, "We can get help!"

Squinting, he could see a makeshift barrier around this camp.

They don't pause; they never stop.

"It's not going to be enough," Thalia says, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turns to glare at her. _The hell is she talking about…?_

"Even if we reach that camp, we'll just end up endangering their lives," Thalia continues. She pauses, and looks at him.

Realization hits him, and anger begins to flood him.

"No!" he roars, his hoarse voice breaking through the thunder. They're already near the hill… just a few more steps.

His muscles ache, and the rain… it doesn't bring solace to him. Grover and Annabeth are lagging behind, and the Furies are just a few meters after them. Thalia's lips are pursed, and he could see that her mind is already made up.

There's no stopping her now.

"Take me with you," he croaks instead, shoving Grover and Annabeth beside him, gesturing them to enter the camp's borders.

A look of understanding passes by Grover's eyes as he drags Annabeth inside.

"Thalia?" Annabeth calls out questioningly.

Thalia rolls her eyes.

"I don't need some drama here, Luke," she says, a brave look passing by her features. "Take care of Annabeth, will you?" she says, her voice softening. "Give her the family she never had."

Her voice breaks, and that's when he realizes she's scared.

"I had a great time-" she flashes him a bright smile, " – now, go be the hero."

He looks at her helplessly. Damn it! Why won't the _fucking _gods help them?

The Furies and all the other creatures approach them. She shoves him inside the borders, and his lungs are burning, and it just hurts _so _much.

"Thank you," she breathes.

Lightning flashes; thunder roars.

(The rain is his only company now. Her smile, her laughter, her _name _– Thalia Grace is gone.)

A part of him – _Luke Castellan_, he remembers_ – _breaks.

.

Years pass by, and he lets his memory of her drown.

The dark-haired angel no longer exists.

(Neither does he.)

.

The idea of being a hero – _it seems so idiotic now_, he thinks bitterly.

The gods – oh the gods! – they're nothing but cowards, and they deserve nothing but Tartarus.

They Thalia die for a fucking prophecy.

And right now, he is nothing but a toy of the gods' play.

He glances at Annabeth who's innocent even through the course of events.

_I promised Thalia. I'll protect you_, he vows. He won't break his promise – he'll be Annabeth's family.

_Would you like to join me? _A voice questions him. _We will triumph. The gods would suffer. They _will _pay._

A few years later, he's going to blame it on the pain, but for now, he figures it won't hurt to be selfish every now and then.

There's the unsaid promise.

_Thalia, Thalia, Thalia._

(He doesn't know that he breaks his own words this time.)

His lips curl, and the man he once was is already gone.

.

"Thalia gave her life to save you!" The Poseidon spawn grits, and he could see how much _this _Percy is holding back, "And this is how you repay her?"

He snaps. There is rust in the air, and his fists clench.

"Don't speak of Thalia!" he roars – _Thalia, Thalia, Thalia_. His memory flashes, and the bright blue that used to be so alive – it faded, and so will the gods, he swears. "The gods let her _die_! That's one of the many things they will pay for!"

His vision becomes fuzy, and the hymn of revenge lives on.

.

He will avenge _her_.

_He_ will kill for her.

He will draw _blood._

(Even if it's his own.)

.

He loses himself a few years later. He trades life for the promise of death. He gives his feelings for power. He throws away himself for strength.

_You aren't Luke. I don't know you anymore. _

Amidst the sting in his chest and the burn of the water, he thinks of that one thing that makes him human.

(Breathe in. Breathe out.)

.

_I lost myself trying to look for you._

.

("Family?" Annabeth's voice was barely above a whisper. _"We'll be happy, won't we? You, me, Thalia…_" she grinned lopsidedly.

Thalia rolls her eyes. "Come on Annabeth, we promised you, didn't we?" she looks at him as if she expected him to back her up. "We don't break promises," she said playfully, jabbing his ribs.

_Ouch, _he mouthed angrily.

"Of course, 'beth," he grinned at Annabeth. Thalia looked satisfied, and he can't help but ignore the slight jump in his chest.

"Family?"Annabeth asked for verification. Her grey eyes looked sharped.

"Family." He confirmed, and by saying the words, he willed them to be true.)

_"Family, Annabeth, we promised."_

_Annabeth…_

_Thalia…_

_Family…_

(There's nothing much to think of now.)

He rises from the currents, throws Achilles a look, and cuts gold.

.

Three days.

One week.

Eight months.

(It doesn't matter anymore.)

Luke Castellan won't be coming home.

.

"Family, Luke," Annabeth croaks, "you promised."

Something flashes; human memories break through immortality, and he feels surging in his body. Something clicks

_Thalia… Annabeth… Family…_

I'm sorry, he tries to say.

At that point he doesn't even know what he's saying. He feels the crack of his skin, the pain, the sting…

He buries himself in countless of memories, instead. He remembers saying some words, hearing a few hurried whispers, cusses – and were those tears? -, there's Kronos cursing him (it's funny actually) but none of those are recognizable now.

He thinks of his father instead – how Hermes must have loved him, of his mother – how she cared for him, of Annabeth – how much burden he had brought to her shoulders, of Percy – who'd probably the hero he never was, of Grover – how he'd been a good friend, of Thalia – who he never stopped loving.

He clumsily holds on to his memory of them (of her, actually) as he feels himself slip.

Darkness embraces him, but he doesn't feel alone.

(Luke Castellan finds himself instead.)

_I'm Thalia, by the way._

He grasps his memory of her – _Thalia, Thalia, Thalia_, her smile, her laughter, her voice, her everything – and, he's not afraid.

* * *

.

.

**so we can start all over again**

**A/N: **You read up to this part…?

Thank you! :))

Bear with me. I was experimenting on this writing style, oh well… please tell me your comments/opinions. :DD I'll try to post the next chapter soon.

Thanks! XD


	3. Free Falling

**they don't know about us**

**A/N:** I decided to bring this back again.

Thanks! :))

Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus belong to Rick Riordan.

**dedicated **to _fading colors._

* * *

__**Free Falling**

* * *

_I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_

_in secret, between the shadow and the soul._

**-PABLO NERUDA**

* * *

Okay.

So maybe he's feeling a bit of regret in taking that blow for Piper. So maybe he wants to go back in time and save the world again. So maybe there are tons of things he wants to do. So maybe he feels like it's not yet his time to die…

But he's dead anyway, and there's really nothing he can do, so Jason figures it's okay for him to wander in the corridors that bridge life and death. He has seen Lord Letus a while ago, and what's supposed to be a conversation explaining how he could cross the bridge turned to be one that included the god complaining about how disrespectful and arrogant Hercules is.

Not that Jason blames Lord Letus, though. Hercules, from how Jason met him a few days ago, is well… a bastard. Jason has heard stories of him humiliating Lord Letus, so it doesn't really surprise Jason to see the god still holding a grudge against his half-brother. In the end, their "conversation" ended with the god telling him that he should look for some sort of "sign."

That is why Jason is looking from left to right to try and find whatever door the god is saying that would lead him to his destiny.

He feels guilty though for leaving his friends behind, especially Piper. After knowing the daughter of Aphrodite for half a year, he knows that as strong as she wants to be, she can break as easily as others do. He just hopes she understands that he'd rather face Lord Pluto than stand next to her body in her own funeral.

What are his final words to her again?

I love you, was it?

He wanders alone through the hallways while trying to imagine what life would be like if Gaea is not rising at all, if they do not have to save the world again. Perhaps he's still the praetor of CampJupiter. Perhaps he won't be able to meet his sister too.

A horrible feeling sinks into his stomach when the thought enters his mind because he knows deep inside that meeting Thalia is one of the best things that has ever happened to him. He doesn't ever want to imagine a life not knowing that his sister is alive and breathing. Ever.

Meeting the Greeks did him well, too. His horizons expand, and the way he views life changes too. It's almost as if he sees a part of himself that he has not seen before. He feels like he could be more carefree, more happy, more relaxed. Aside from that, Jason has befriended tons of other people and has gained the wisdom he'd probably need later on his life.

But of course, all of these things had a price he has to pay.

He has to fight Dakota of all people – _Dakota who has always been his friend, Dakota who he has tried to control from his drinking habits, Dakota who never ever betrayed him. _He has left countless of people who has always relied on him – Gwen, Bobby, Hazel and nearly everyone he has met in his life before the exchange. He abandoned Reyna who had to shoulder the job of two people alone.

The worst part is he didn't choose to apologize to all of them when he returned to New Rome.

Not that he is regretting choosing to show Piper New Rome. It's just that thinking about all that has happened, he feels like the conflict wouldn't happen at all if he, at least, chose to reconcile with his friends first. And it makes Jason feel frustrated with himself. At that time, when they arrived, he chose his feelings above his duty, his responsibility.

Look at the trouble it has brought them. His mistake caused a war between the Greeks and the Romans, and _all _his friends are in trouble.

Jason finds it funny though. Now that he's dead, he's criticizing everything he has done when he had the chance to make things right when he is alive and breathing.

Maybe this is what death is all about, he muses. Maybe it's about regretting everything you did and didn't do. And if this is Lord Pluto's punishment for all the deceased, this could be fair. At least for him.

A door appears to his right, and he's shocked, but he enters it anyway. He might as well find out what's in store for him there. After all, if he's going to go straight to Fields of Punishment, although he hopes not, then he will. He just hopes he gets what he truly deserves. That's what he believes in.

And that is why three seconds later, he decides that Lord Pluto must have really hated him because he suddenly finds himself grasping for his life with nothing but a piece of rock to save him.

The ground holding him is gone, and there's nothing besides an abyss and him are left. Shivers run in his spine as he desperately holds unto the edge of the cliff.

As a son of Jupiter, it is very easy for him to not feel scared of heights, considering his father is the Lord of the Skies. But there is something in the pit that tells him letting go could be translated to suicide. A horrible feeling settles inside him as he swallows when he realizes what this pit really is. His palms start to sweat as he tries to pull himself up. Jason is not going to let himself rot in the depths of Tartarus.

Maybe he has made some rather, a lot of mistakes in the past, but he doubts he deserves to suffer because of the countless of monsters that would beg for his blood. It creeps him out too that he suddenly feels like he's Thalia what with her fear of heights and all. He grunts and tries to counter the gravity pulling him down.

Of course, he fails to do so.

He still tries to grasp on to the memory of Leo and his funny jokes, Lupa's "motherly" actions, Connor and Travis' Stolls pranks, Thalia's spunk, Percy's incredible support, Annabeth's wisdom, Hazel's concern for him, Frank's incredible ability, Dakota's antics and Piper's eyes and soothing voice to give him the strength and the will to fight though.

But they fade as soon as he recalls them in his mind, and he suddenly feels so frustrated because _he doesn't know what to do _anymore. The feeling of helplessness frustrates him, and his hope of surviving is draining as fast as his grip is slipping from the edge.

Maybe he should just die and –

"You're stronger than that," a voice says. His blood freezes, and suddenly, he feels like time has stopped. He looks up and sees a girl wearing jeans and a purple shirt with a dagger in hand.

He recognizes her almost too well.

"W-what are you doing here?" he croaks, feeling his hand slipping away. She raises her eyebrow as is she is challenging and mocking him as she does the most unexpected thing: she grabs his hand and pulls.

"Gods, you could at least try to help," she grumbles, frowning. She looks like she's ready to run her dagger right through his body. "Octavian can't see you in that state. He'd probably put you in some high place to see the end of you."

Jason nods and tries to gather as much as strength he has left. "Sorry," he mutters tiredly.

She nods before exerting more force to pull him up. "You gained weight, Jason. Is the food of the Greeks really that good?" she taunts, her eyes softening a little bit as he steadies himself.

"Look who's talking," he replies light-heartedly as finally_- finally!- _he reaches the ground and sits just a few inches away from the edge. "It's called muscles," he pants heavily, "and maybe it's you who lost the strength, Reyna."

Gods. He's never going to go near cliffs for a while.

Reyna stands up and looks like she's really going to snap his neck into two. "Thanking me would actually do you good," she snaps, her eyes looking even darker than before.

Suddenly, guilt starts to form inside his stomach as he realizes exactly how much damage he has done to Reyna. He bites his lip and tries to open his mouth to say something –_anything would be fine! –_ to fix his mistakes even if he knows that words would just never be enough. He opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts him off.

"Save it for later, Jason," she says, her voice sharp and deadly, but there is an edge to it. She looks at him pointedly, but her eyes softens a bit. "You have a war to win. You have a world to save."

Unexpectedly, something snaps. He tries to remember the prettiest shade of the rainbow only to fin the darkest shade of onyx blocking it instead. He closes his eyes and tells himself this is Reyna who waited for him for _eight long months. _He swallows the bile that has been built in his throat, threatening to spill out because all of a sudden, he feels too guilty because he's damn sure that because of the things he has done, his friends from the West would never ever welcome him again.

"But-"

"We'll talk later," she cuts him off for the second time. Her gaze looks like she's calculating every single possibility, and that's when he realizes he's glad to have someone who can understand him so easily. She gives him what seems like a smile. "Survive this war, and we'll see what will happen next," she says with a hint of humor evident in her voice. "See you later."

_He's going to live through this, and make that 'later' come._

All of a sudden, she disappears, he forgets the world, and everything else fades.

.

.

[Somewhere in Greece, a boy wakes up.]

.

* * *

******and the "I love you's"**

**A/N: **Thank you for reading this. :)) Reviews are very much appreciated.


	4. third time's the charm - i

Memories are forever-

(One minute, three hours, fifteen days, two years, six decades, eight centuries. Countless of millennia could've passed by, and she wouldn't dare notice it.

Every slash, every kill, every drop of sweat, every tear, every time the silver cuts the blue aren't being counted just as much as she didn't bother to turn around then when she decided to leave everything behind. She doesn't dare remember; she buries every memory the crosses her min-)

-and she hates the fact that they cannot be erased.

* * *

_"Take it," the girl with the tiara says, her bright eyes expectant and commanding. She strides towards the table, ignoring the blaring music and the warnings of her... companions. "The war's over, and hell does these people of yours need to let you go."_

_Reyna glances at_ _Thalia Grace's palm_,_ taking in the silvery texture. She purses her lips - something she always seems to do these days with everything going on._

_She crosses her arms, and replies, "The election's coming soon, and-"_

_"And I am pretty sure the Romans would be smarter now than to elect that bastard," Thalia interrupted, her voice sounding sharp as she spreads her arm towards the Romans who looked like they're having too much fun, "I talked to Annabeth and Percy-"_

_"They're involved?" Reyna asked, disbelief evident on her tone. For the past few months after the war, the two had become her confidante, her friends when the others were too busy rebuilding the barracks destroyed and the Greek camp they just set to fire. _

_"They think it's for the best." Thalia replied quietly. "It won't make a difference. New Rome's stable, everyone's happy. It won't hurt anyone," she continued, her blue eyes never leaving Reyna's face._

_"No."_

_A raven eyebrow cocked upwards. "What?"_

_"I said no," Reyna replies, her voice getting stronger with each word, "I've been invited to join once. I've refused then. You invite me, and I still refuse. There's a reason why I didn't join the Amazons and the Hunters of Artemis, Thalia."_

_Thalia purses her lips and glanced at the back of the room where Reyna was sure a certain couple was standing._

_"A reason that doesn't even care, Reyna." she says, "A reason that doesn't even bother to retain his old position just so could be with someone else."_

_"I said no."_

_Thalia sighs, and runs her hand through her hair in frustration, before slapping Reyna's hand and walking down the side where the rest were.  
_

_Reyna opens her mouth, but nothing comes out as she glances at the silver card glinting on her hand. _

_She walks away too, instead of lingering behind and tries to talk to Gwen and Hazel to clear off her mind. She avoids Percy and Annabeth, seeing this is a slow dance, they're probably... doing things. She stays away from everything and goes outside and walks until the loud sound is nearly gone._

_"I love you." __Reyna freezes as she knows that voice too well._

_"I know. I love you too." __Her heart stops, and she does the one thing her instinct tells her. She turns around and bolts toward the hall with the wind whipping her face._

_She runs until she's out of breath._

_Collapsing on the ground, she searches her pockets for the moon's offer, and finds herself saying the encrypted words just before the tears fall._

* * *

Sometimes, when the nights are low and when there's no one present to see her drop her armor and be as vulnerable as a child she'd sit down and curse the gods.

_You are cruel. __  
_

(She'll weep until her parka is stained and there's nothing left but her soundless tears. Her knees would give out with the moon's dim light her only company as she remembers the night years ago where she traded her throne for a tiara, her golden dagger for silver bows, her army for companions, her emotions for peace, her heritage for sisterhood.)

No one would dare to approach; her friends ignore her - probably because they went through the exact thing she's going through so they act normal when she returns to camp with her hair tangled and eyes a little more swollen than usual.

They laugh and pretend everything's fine which makes Reyna better because that's exactly what she needs. She doesn't like pity. She hates it with every fiber of her being because that -

That's exactly what reflected on the witch's never-ending spectrum of light before.

(_I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis-_

I'm sorry.)


End file.
